


The Closet

by Lucky_L



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Gen, i don't know how to tag yay, just a warning, there are kinda spoilers here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky_L/pseuds/Lucky_L
Summary: There's a closet in the old family house
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (mentioned)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	The Closet

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is something I did while a was bored in Maths, and I liked it so, here it is!  
> Thanks to my drama teacher for giving me the idea and to @A-Butter-Churner for being an amazing bro and an amazing beta!

There was a closet in the old family house. 

It was in the small room, the one the oldest son, the artist, used as his studio. It was always locked, and no one know who has the key. Most people thought it was the artist, but all his things were surrounding the closet. And why would they be there if he had the key? Why would there be paints and clothes and history books all over the floor?

The closet was a mystery, and so was the artist.

There was a closet in the Café Musain.

It was on the corridor that led to the backroom, the one the revolutionary students used for their meetings. It was always closed, but everyone knew who had the key. The drunk cynic, a constant presence on the Musain, always said that was where the revolutionaries kept their alcohol, and he, as the expert, was the one who had to take care of it. He always laughed after saying it.

The closet was made for alcohol, and so, it seemed, was the cynic.

The artist began spending more and more time on his studio over the years. He could stay hours, even days inside with the door locked. No one in the house ever wanted to bother him, so they never knocked. They didn’t care about him anyway; he was just the family’s failure.

The cynic was loud and, most of the time, drunk. He talked about how the rebellion would fail, but he kept going to the meetings. He was obnoxious, always rambling about nothing and everything, sometimes saying weird things no one understood. No one cared about it anyway; he was just the funny drunkard.

As soon as someone found out the artist wasn’t in his studio all the time he disappeared, they all started thinking he had found a lover. It made even more sense when his paintings started portraying a blond man who looked like a god. It became clear when they saw him out of his studio, when they looked at his eyes. The artist was clearly in love. But no one knew who was that blond god that had captivated the artist’s heart.

When the barricades rose, most of the furniture of the Musain was used on the barricade made in front of the café. The closet didn’t move, and neither did the cynic, asleep next to it.

One day, the artist entered his studio and never came out again. When they forced the door, the artist had disappeared, leaving all his belongings behind. Most people said he had run away with his lover. Some said he had gone crazy. A few only wished he had found happiness.

The closet remained locked forever after that.

After the rebellion failed, after the cynic died, some people tried to find the key of the closet, but no one could. Still, it was a beautiful piece of art, so one of the patrons of the café decided to buy it when the Musain closed. He put it in a small room of his house.

The closet remained locked for a century.

And then one young artist decided to use the room as his studio.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/luckysheikah)


End file.
